Consequences
by Rhaya
Summary: A JnR fic. Warning: If you are a Scrubs or Jasam fan this isn't the story for you. Patrick nor Sam is portrayed in a positive light. I hate them both and am using this fic to vent. Herein they'll exhibit behavior their fans may find unsettling.
1. Chapter 1

So many questions swirled round Jason Morgans mind every night, while he lay there in his penthouse next to the woman he's supposed to love. What had his life become? When had he lost control of it? What had he let happen to the man he once was? The man who could take on three masked men with guns and lay them out in ten minutes. The man who had loved once, and been loved. Who would love him now, as he was?

Someone had...long ago, loved him better than anyone after her. Better than the best. He smiles faintly at the memory of those words, words he had tried so hard to forget.

No,' he tells himself, 'forget her. There's no going back. She deserves better.' Letting out a small groan as he pulls himself up from the bed, answering the question from woman next to him with a simple 'I'll be right back.' She's still in that place between sleep and awake so she doesn't stir or put up much of an argument when he pulls her arm off of his waist.

Pausing before releasing her tiny wrist. He stares at that limb with pure contempt she can't see in the darkness. As much as he'd like to break it, he can't.

Instead he drops it on her pillow and scoots as quickly as he can away from the bed, letting out a painful hiss as the clawmarks on his neck and chest are pulled and sting with every movement. Once in the bathroom he closes the door, standing in front of the full length mirror. The body before him is unrecognizable. There are dark purple welts along his upper torso. Her nails had left a few welts on his face and neck. But her favorite form of torture left dark purple marks around the most sensitive parts of him. His nipples, his belly..and if you saw his legs, they would look much the same. It seemed the only area she never subjected to her tempers was the one part of him that was of use to her. And even that was raw at times due to her insatiability.

He knows without looking that his back is bruised as well. His ass felt like someone had touched a hot iron to it. Probably because they 'had'. Of course she claimed that was an accident. He rolls his eyes, stepping toward the shower and flicking on the cool water. His whole body suddenly felt like it was on fire.

As the cool water rushes down his body, he thinks of her. Not the woman asleep in his bed, but the one he left behind. His only source of comfort came in knowing she was happy, that Morgan and Michael are safe. He has to stop and remind himself every now and then exactly why he's doing this. It was all for them, he remembers. So they could continue to live the happy lives they had built for themselves.

Once again his thoughts fall on Robin, her smiling face the last time they'd collided, quite literally, at the hospital. The night he 'mysteriously' showed back up at the hospital thirty minutes later, needing stitches. Robin had thought it strange that he'd been able to 'get himself into trouble' in just a half an hour, he could see confusion written on her face. But she said she 'knew better' than to ask. Put it down to his job, which he was thankful for. He didn't want her rooting round for clues and getting herself mixed up in the messes he'd made himself. She was already in neck deep, she just didn't know it. But as long as she went on unaware, the safer she was because he knew Robin. If the truth came out, she would never let it rest. Not until she knew the truth. And he knew he didn't have it in him to lie to her.

Keeping things from people for their own good, sure. He'd practically made a career out of doing just that. And it had been a mistake in her case back then, but now..she couldn't know.

He gets out, new resolve set in his mind, grabbing a towel and slowly, carefully moving to wrap it around his waist. As he moves to grab his sweatpants he hears the door open and freezes, hand paused with his sweats dangling from it.

"I'm sorry..did I wake you?" He asks almost meekly, hating the weak quality in his voice but he can't help it. The burning pain radiating through his chest and back reminding him it's not a good idea to cross her. Not until he can figure a way out of this mess. For all of them.

"No, I just missed you, that's all." She purrs, reaching to run her hand tenderly over his cheek. He tries his best not to cringe or move, but her touch irritates the scratchmarks she had left there last night.

"I'm sorry." He says again. Not sure what else to say that won't set her off. She seemed to like hearing him grovel or apologize so for the most part he's just been sticking to those two. She rolls her eyes, shoving him away from her with a hard slap.

"Don't fucking patronize me, Jason! I'm not crazy or a child. Or some kind of animal you have to coax out of it's lair. I'm the woman you love. Or..dson't you remember that anymore? I swear after one conversation with little miss Perfect you're already treating me like the bad guy!" As she speaks she roots around in her drawer for her razor, huffing and puffing because she isn't finding it. Finally she yanks the drawer free and throws it on the floor in frustration, dropping it directly on Jasons foot and kneeling down to search through the things that had fallen out The drawer lands on Jasons foot across the bridge of his toes and he lets out a yelp, scowling down at her.

"Jesus, Sam! Be careful!" Her answer is a swipe at his knee, taking his feet out from under him and she stands to her feet, razor in hand, kicking him in the stomach.

"Watch your mouth. Clean this shit up. I'll shave in there," nodding toward the bedroom. With a small sigh, barely audible, Jason pulls himself to a sitting position. When he tries to stand he finds his knee has been dislocated and hurts like hell. She scoffs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she leaves the room, flinging one last order over her shoulder. "Oh don't be such a big baby...christ."

Jason waits til she's out of earshot, sitting primly on the sofa across the hall with her razor and some toe polish, before letting out a breath and glaring at the mangled knee.

"Great..crazy bitch." He pushes the bathroom door closed and stares down at the injured leg, noting that it's already starting to swell, trying to remember what Robin had told him to do in cases of dislocation.

After a 10 minute struggle and alot of muffled screaming into a washrag, he manages to pop the knee back into place, but walking on it...that's a whole other ballgame.....

Here he was, an injured leg, his ex girlfriend on the brain, and Sam was expecting sex, at least that's what the whole leg shaving toe polishing ritual usually meant.

It was going to be an interesting night. 


	2. Chapter 2

-One week later-

She was just finishing up a 14 hour shift, which had been more stressful than usual in that she'd had to try to keep a bit of distance between herself and Patrick all day after yet another huge fight. Her crime this time? Making the mistake of informing him in front of Elizabeth that he'd prescribed the wrong dosage of medication to a 5 year old epileptic patient. Instead of being grateful she'd caught it, and probably spared the hospital a hefty lawsuit due to negligence, he'd humiliated her once again, calling her horrible names and using her insecurities about her own health to 'prove' that she was just being paranoid. She almost regretted ever having told him she was HIV+. Something she had never struggled with before, at least in this town. Unless you count Carly, but who does?

Having successfully avoided him all night, Robin is just about ready to clock out, picking up the sign out sheet at the desk when she hears a voice over her shoulder that makes her cringe inwardly. Her stomach churning, nerves suddenly on edge.

"Hey Scorpio! How about a nightcap?" He walks up, all swagger, lips turned up in his trademark cocky grin. She'd swear if she looked up 'arrogant' in the dictionary she'd find Dr. Drakes picture next to it. Rolling her eyes she turns to face him fully.

"No thank you, Dr. Drake, I tend to not go out with men who make a habit of calling me an uptight ice princess. Besides..I have plans." She feels a slight twinge of satisfaction at the way his grin waivers a little at this news. Nevermind the fact that her "plans" consist of curling up in front of her tv with a pint of Hagan Dasz and calling her best friend in Paris. Let him think what he wants to.

He takes only a moment to recover, leaning against the counter of the nurses station, arms folded. His eyes roving over her figure with all the tact of a rabid wolf. "Well, break them..I can show you a better time than any of the losers in this lazy little burg." He looks around, his face showing his distaste for his surroundings, prompting her to wonder if he hated it so much why he stuck around after Jasons surgery. Why didn't he leave if this town was so boring? Simple, she thinks, to drive me insane.

Instead of stating her thoughts, however, she looks away, noticing Epiphany moving closer to them and raises her voice just slightly. Loud enough for Piph to hear but not loud enough as to make a scene. Batting her eyelashes coyly, and letting her voice drip with all the sarcasm she can muster, "Why Doctor Drake, are you hitting on me in the workplace?"

Patrick, it seems, also takes note of Epiphanys presence, looking slightly more nervous than cocky now, but before he gets a chance to reply her voice bellows from over Patricks shoulder.

"Doctor Drake! I know you're not using this hospital as your own personal dating service again. What did I tell you last time you hit on one of my nurses?"

"She isn't a nurse Piph, so this isn't any of your concern.." Patrick says weakly, knowing how feeble his excuse sounds, even to his own ears. It certainly wouldn't fly with no nonsense Epipheny. He assessed correctly, watching as her large form rounds the desk and leans in closely, meeting him at eye level. Her voice calm, yet firm enough to show she means business.

"Dr. Drake, what you do and whom you do it with on your own time is your business. But when I see you flirting on hospital grounds while on the clock..ith a member of my staff that doesn't appear to appreciate your ..advances, shall we say..it becomes my business. Now, Dr. Scorpio has signed out, which makes her simply a visitor here at the hospital right now until she clocks in tomorrow morning. She's also seen here routinely for her HIV treatment. So when she isn't on the clock that makes her a patient by legal standards.

Both Patrick and Robin can see where she's going with this. Both look at her, shocked that they didn't think of it, but for very different reasons. Robin is relieved and amused at the loophole Epiphany was giving her to get away without another run in with him after hours, while Patrick was just flat out angry. Meanwhile Epiphany is rounding off her little rant, looking rather pleased with the effect it's having on the arrogant doctor.

"So if I choose to write you up to the Chief of Staff, you won't just get a slap on the wrist for flirting with a colleague, you'll get a nice little suspension and have to go before the board for conduct unbecoming a doctor, on the grounds of sexually harassing a patient."

"That's not fair! You could cost me my job just for a little harmless flirting!" Patrick looks between the two women, turning red faced with anger. The women are unmoved by his display.

"It's not considered flirting anymore when I've told you countless times to leave me alone, Patrick. It's called harassment." Patrick stares at her coldly for a few seconds before turning on his heel with one last glare toward her. He storms away, swiping some folders off the counter along the way.

"Thanks, Piph."

"No problem Dr. Scorpio. If he bothers you again, you let me know. I'll have a talk with Dr. Ford about it and get him written up."

Thanking her again, Robin hands her the sign out sheet and leaves the hospital. When she gets out to her car, however, she finds Patrick leaning casually against it. Stopping in her tracks, a few feet away from the vehicle and its new 'hood ornament' she slumps. Her bag falling from her shoulder she catches it with her hand and stares back at him. "What are you doing, Patrick?"

He grins, his entire presence emitting a casual air that grated more on her nerves with each passing second. "I thought I'd give you a chance to cool off and then change your mind."

She sighs, looking at her watch and thanking whatever diety that she'd thought to set her tv to record her favorite show. It looked like she was going to miss it tonight.

"You're insane."

"Have dinner with me."

"I'm tired, I just finished a long shift, and I don't want to go out, I just want to go home and have a nice hot soak in the tub and then crawl into bed."

"Okay..that sounds good to me..if you let me come too, I promise you won't regret it. I'm talking massage oils, and total pampering. Women like that stuff, right?" He smirks, sensing he was rapidly getting on her nerves and taking that as breaking her down. She could very well let him come home with her. After all, it had been awhile, and she had certain 'needs' just like everyone else. Patrick knew about her HIV and it didn't deter him. Maybe she should be grateful for that and grab the opportunity.

Sure, he was infuriating. Disgustingly confident. Insensitive. Egotistical. Pig headed. A complete knuckle dragging Neanderthal. But he was cute, and had skills in bed. She could do this, she could have a fling, a sex only 'arrangement'. She sighs, about to tell him to get in the car, until she looked up and saw his cocky little grin. She shakes her head.

"No thanks, Patrick. I need more than you can give me. I think it's best if we just keep it at working colleagues. Maybe friends one day, but I can't give you any more than that. I need the real deal, or it's no deal."

They stand there, at an impass for what seems like an eternity but really was only a handful of seconds, before Patrick nods, giving her a bitter smirk. He didn't handle rejection very well. It was a foreign concept to him. But he'd have to deal with it for now, he decided. Once she realized just how limited her options were, being a clingy, neurotically emotional one minute, cold the next. She turns on and off like a faucet. Not something most guys find attractive but he considered it a challenge. One he was determined to take on. 


End file.
